Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 9

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Chapter 122: The Silent Horn of the Forest

With both hands gripping the rope, the small raft quickly and steadily reached the opposite bank, still resting where the water plants grew. The crocodile that Lu Ya had shot was placed in the middle of the raft like a specimen.

The crocodiles I had blinded had tumbled off the crossbeam and disappeared into the meter-deep water. The surrounding water rippled violently, as if invisible raindrops were falling. From the dark red surface, it was immediately clear that a large school of piranhas had gathered nearby, frantically thrashing their tails in the blood-soaked water.

Normally, piranhas are also prey for alligators, but once the fish population increases and the crocodiles bleed, their positions on the food chain are reversed. The hungrier the fish are, the more ferocious their attacks.

It's easy to imagine that, aside from the wild boar clinging to the crossbeam and the crocodiles shot by Lu Ya, the blind crocodiles were likely reduced to skeletons, like airplane wreckage, plunged into the deepest part of the water, isolated from the world. The tiny strands of flesh hanging vertically from the skeleton, propelled by buoyancy, wouldn't be wasted by the school of fish with their square, serrated mouths.

Carrying the axe, he cautiously approached the large wild boar. Upon reaching it, he saw that the once white mushrooms and dark wood ear fungus on the crossbeam where the boar's head rested had turned blood-red. However, the boar itself was relatively intact, though its blind eyes were severely swollen, constantly oozing black, sticky red fluid. It resembled a weeping panda.

The axe wound on the boar's neck was deep; if one were to step on its belly, the neck bone inside the wound would be faintly visible. This thousand-pound piece of fresh pork—if it hadn't been pecked at by birds while drying on the deck, I wouldn't have cared. Whatever ate it, it was pointless.

Now, even if an ant tried to crawl up and take a bite, I wouldn't want it. Luya on deck gestured to me, indicating my surroundings were safe. As long as I watched the water, there wouldn't be much danger for the time being. I raised my binoculars and glanced at the sky above the ship. The sparse flock of parrots from before was now chased away like dragonflies after rain; their numbers had decreased, and they seemed much more timid.

Carrying my reassuring axe, I jumped over a few more logs to see if I could retrieve the two leopards. After observing the area for a while, apart from the strange cries of various insects and aquatic creatures, I couldn't find any trace of the leopards, as if the killing had never happened. There

were traces of blood under the tree where the spotted leopard and the black leopard had been shot down. Luya and Yiliang's shots were mostly aimed at vital points, leaving no chance for their prey to escape wounded. I climbed onto a crooked tree, its trunk swaying from the water, and carefully examined the surrounding water. I still couldn't find any trace of the leopard being torn apart and eaten by other predators.

This situation, ironically, made me somewhat afraid. If the leopard was torn apart, then any predator that ate it could be of any size, and any animal with sharp teeth could do that. If that wasn't possible, then it must have been swallowed whole. A leopard weighing two hundred pounds, swallowed whole, must be no ordinary bird of prey.

Thinking this, I quickly climbed down the tree. As long as I got the wild boar back to the boat, I never wanted to come back to this environment. The edge of the forest was practically a cage for human flesh.

I used my axe to chop down several thick, water-soaked logs, hoping to use leverage to pry the giant boar onto the small raft on the shore. But every time I exerted force at the crucial moment, there was a "crack," and the log broke. Moreover, the logs were too flexible; even when almost bent at a right angle, the boar's body still wouldn't lift.

Going back to the boat to grab the steel bar to smash the crocodile's head would be too late. This enormous piece of fresh pork was even more important to me and all the women on the large boat, making me afraid to leave its side.

A thousand-pound wild boar could be rolled into the water and its buoyancy used to pull it to the small raft, but that was impossible at this moment. Not only would the massive swarm of piranhas devour our food in an instant, but even a single adult crocodile, lying on the bottom and biting the boar's flesh, could easily drag me into the water.

After drifting to this deserted island, I gradually noticed a strange phenomenon. Everything here was easily obtainable, but once you tried to take it for yourself, you were immediately in a position where the risk and reward were highly proportional, easily driving one insane. There was no other way but to dismember the wild boar, chop it into pieces, and carry it onto the raft.

In this "cage" on the edge of the forest, dismembering a wild boar, the mere smell of its entrails from its thick belly and the freely flowing blood could serve as a silent horn summoning the entire forest's murderous intent to gather there.

The forest itself was like a monster with two sides: good and evil. As I swung my axe, chopping off the boar's fore and hind elbows, and slicing open its bulging, round belly, it was as if I had touched the organs of the forest's mating season; the entire forest floor and the river surface seemed to convulse. I had to hurry, to escape this vortex of desire as quickly as possible; its climax was the destruction of my life.

The axe blade sliced open the boar's brownish-gray belly, and a large lump of intestines oozed out, like bundles of wilted scallions, wrapped in greenish-red sap. The warm, damp air, permeated with an unusually foul stench, made my stomach churn and I felt nauseous.

This smell, to carnivores, is like the perfume of a beautiful woman, wafting into the nostrils of a bachelor, stimulating the brain and conjuring up images of debauchery.

Releasing the axe, pulling the dagger from my boot, I shoved my large, rough right fingers into the sticky, slightly warm mass of entrails, like pulling a radish stuck in mud, and ripped out the wild boar's liver and heart. The sharp dagger easily severed the sticky membranes and ligaments. These

few pieces were considered the best parts of the wild boar; I'd take them back to nourish the women who were menstruating, using food as medicine. Recently, several women squatting in a corner of the cabin had been experiencing dark blood seeping from their groin. After I finished my immediate tasks, I'd try to move them to a dry, warm place to sleep.

Carrying a hundred-pound wild boar foreleg, like a child rescued from a fire, I rushed to the ambulance. After several trips back and forth, I finally managed to load all the necessary food into the small raft.

At the bottom of the raft was the crocodile, and on top of it were eight or nine pieces of wild boar carcass cleaved open with an axe. The colorful intestines were all discarded where the boar had died. Actually, the wild boar intestines, after being turned inside out and washed in the river to remove the semi-digested contents, could be brought back and stir-fried with some spicy wild chilies until slightly red—a nutritious and delicious dish.

In the taverns of the nameless town, whenever someone could afford to order this most expensive dish, the men drinking in the room would sniff the aroma, feeling quite pleased with themselves. These nostalgic thoughts of home unexpectedly welled up in my heart again. Unfortunately, time was short, and there was no room for such luxuries.

Chapter 123: The Terrifying Subsurface

. The raft, laden with fresh meat, was deep in the water. I stepped on the water plants and pushed the raft far into the deeper water before leaping onto it, holding onto the last loosened rope, never wanting to return to this place.

I straddled the center of the raft, afraid to move lest the river water overflow the raft's sides and sink me and the entire load of food. Fortunately, the river was as smooth as a mirror; I felt like an aluminum coin floating on the surface, any slight movement could throw me off balance instantly.

The rope, though sturdy, was incredibly unnerving; the water below seemed not to be a riverbed at all, but rather a vast spectator watching a high-altitude acrobatic performance. Half of my body became the rope, the other half the raft, serving as a support, a compromise, a compliant force, until we reached the anchor chain beneath the large ship.

"Chirp chirp chirp chirp... whoosh whoosh whoosh..." The sky resembled a round clock; the sun hung in the three or four o'clock position in the afternoon. The sultry afterglow instantly transformed into dappled shadows. From the bright green water before me, I knew that above the large ship, where the sun shone, there were birds resembling dark clouds.

The birds in the forest on both sides of the river, like grasshoppers suddenly hopping around in the grass, fled in the opposite direction of the approaching shadow. The sudden burst of screams was like a flock of chirping sparrows that had just swept overhead.

The remaining parrots had been driven away by Yi Liang wielding his long pole. Could they be using a feint, pretending to leave before sneaking back to snatch the food once it was brought out again?

Worried, I slowly loosened the rope, bringing the raft to a balanced stop so I could use my binoculars to observe the distance. Through the two magnifying lenses, a flock of southward-flying geese appeared in focus.

My intuition told me we were south of the equator, and it was late spring in the southern latitudes; the geese should be heading north in search of warmer temperatures. While pondering this, I continued to watch the birds through the binoculars. The answer would gradually become clear as we got closer.

"Cormorants, cormorants!" On the gun emplacement, Lu Ya, seeing I was less than fifty meters from the ship, stopped sniping and, mimicking my kneeling stance while shooting the crocodile, used her scope to observe the flock of birds flying in through the fading sunlight.

In this girl's childhood, the only birds she had ever seen were those hunted by fishermen in the countryside. Unlike Chi Chun, who came from an upper-middle-class family and could afford to keep a macaw as a pet costing thousands of dollars. If Chi Chun were on the deck, she certainly wouldn't know as much about cormorants as Lu Ya did. Although there

was no essential difference between the birds that the two women knew, the former's diligent fishing and the latter's mimicry and flattery, once transferred from the laws of nature to human society, created a different set of rules.

Listening to Lu Ya's excited shouts, the binoculars were still in front of me, like a rifle ready to be used at any moment, keeping a close eye on the target in the sky. The fright of the forest birds on both banks was like the startled dragonfish when a crocodile is lured close in an iron cage. If it really was a flock of cormorants or geese as Lu Ya guessed, those small birds wouldn't be fleeing in such a large-scale manner.

When I saw the lead bird flying at the very front of the flock, my arms holding the binoculars trembled involuntarily. "Luya, Yiliang, hurry into the main cabin and close the hatch!" As I shouted, Luya turned her terrified little face towards me and yelled, "Come on up! The eagle's coming!"

Instead of running away, she seemed worried about me. "Yiliang, don't worry about me, take Luya into the cabin quickly. I'll be on deck soon, and there will be rhythmic knocking on the hatch. Hurry, get in!" I shouted, constantly lowering my center of gravity to prevent the heavily overloaded raft from going off balance.

Hearing my first shout, Yiliang knew something was wrong as something dark was approaching. She quickly dropped the wooden stick she was holding, pulled Luya off the gun emplacement, and rushed into the cabin.

"Do you want a submachine gun? I'll throw you a few more." Just as we were about to enter the cabin, Yiliang ran to the ship's side and asked me again. "No, no, the raft will sink! Get in!" As soon as I finished speaking, the two little girls' heads, like chicks in a nest afraid of being hit by a slingshot, disappeared completely.

Lu Ya was right; the dark mass swooping down from the sky were indeed eagles. But she didn't know that these eagles were the largest and most ferocious of the high mountains and forest slopes—the hound-headed eagles. Among birds of prey, they are known for their ruthlessness and persistent nature. Especially when the stench of carcasses is present, they arrive even faster than crows.

If they sense that the owner of their prey is weaker or outnumbered, these hound-headed eagles will immediately pounce and snatch the food, mistaking it for theirs after only a few bites. Then, red-faced and furious, they tear at the flesh, warning the real owner to stay away. I think it was probably the smell of the dismembered wild boar and the dead parrots scattered on the deck that attracted them in flocks from the distant mountains.

Parrots killed with sticks, after all, feed on palm fruits and berries, so their bodies are high in protein and minerals. If their feathers are plucked and their internal organs removed, they're like the white-feathered chickens that outsiders in a nameless town would treat during a festival. Unfortunately, the large ship lacked cooking utensils, and I watched in horror as the plump, pigeon-like parrots were devoured by the eagles. It was truly heartbreaking.

If the eagles, arriving in force, had simply snatched the prey like a hawk catching a field mouse, flying to a tree they deemed safe to eat, that would have been what I wanted. But I feared they might harm people. Or they might feed on the deck, turning the ship into a blood-soaked bait for all the birds of prey in the forest.

My heart burned with anxiety, yet I dared not be careless. If I were still on the small raft before the eagles arrived, they would likely have swooped down and piled on top of me. In that moment, whoever had no wings would be at a disadvantage.

I had to save the meat on the raft, ensuring it was safely and hygienically transported into the cabin. But given the current situation, it seemed too late. The wild boar meat was on the deck, right next to the mouth of the scavenging eagle. If a fight broke out, I would be easily injured. Even a small cut on the skin could be fatal due to the bacteria in the mouth of a scavenger.

Tying the meat to a rope and submerging it underwater wasn't a solution either; piranhas and crocodiles would eat our food before chasing the eagle away. Robbers above, thieves below—I was in a bind. The small raft felt like a scorching hot pot, and I was like an ant.

It seemed the only option was to remain still. I'd leave the meat in the raft, climb the anchor chain to the deck, and test if the eagles would attack. If the dead parrot couldn't seduce them, I'd jump into the river and swim desperately to the other side.

Even if I got caught by a crocodile, it wouldn't be a loss. At this moment, I had to respect life and equality. The more precious my life was, the harder it would be to die in peace. It's better than being pecked to a bloody skeleton by filthy scavengers, a horrible sight for women on the deck.

Chapter 124: The spotted man on the deck,

clinging to the slightly warm anchor chain, had just raised his head above the deck when a dog-headed eagle, its wingspan over two meters, landed with a thud on the deck at the other end of the ship. It was the fastest and foremost of the flock, its grayish-brown feathers and two pairs of black claws noticing me watching it as soon as they touched the deck.

Seeing me stand upright, its size suddenly increasing, the eagle became somewhat uneasy and nervous. It didn't immediately lower its head to devour the scattered dead parrots around it, but instead cautiously observed me.

"Plop, plop, plop..." Before I could even process it, the eagles' flock, like a basket of black sesame seeds scattered from the sky, densely covered nearly half of the hundred-meter-long, twenty-meter-wide deck.

A familiar, subconscious sense of danger surged into my mind. Yes, the dark shadows perched on the branches under the yellow moon last night, and the terrifying clanging sound as they carved the deck—it was these dog-headed eagles.

The eagle that had been staring at me earlier, seeing its companions had all landed, instantly transformed its unease and apprehension into arrogance and ferocity. At this moment, its head hung terribly low, like a bowstring poised to be released.

My muscular upper body bulged out, and the sweat beading on my broad chest made my bronze skin gleam. But this did nothing to intimidate the scene before me; instead, it attracted the raptors' eyes, like countless scalpels slicing through me.

While dog-headed eagles are scavengers, readily devouring rotten carcasses, what they truly crave is fresh flesh. Their hook-like beaks, evolved over generations, have become exceptionally sharp. Even the tough fur of a wildebeest could be easily pecked and torn open, dragging out its heavy entrails.

As I breathed, the rise and fall of my chest and the writhing of my internal organs, though separated by skin, intensely stimulated them. It was as if a woman in a thin, soaking wet dress stood before a group of lustful men, stimulating their imaginations of the sensual parts concealed beneath the wet fabric—their shape, color, and the sensation of touch.

At this moment, I absolutely could not retreat or run. On most of the deck, ferocious birds of prey with grey feathers continued to descend, piling up, clustering, even huddling together. The once leisurely floating ship, in less than a minute, seemed to have become a dark, enormous eagle's nest, terrifying anyone caught off guard who suddenly turned their head to see it.

"Coo-coo, coo-coo, coo-coo..." The throats of the dog-headed eagles throbbed like the air sacs of a frog's cheeks. This low call grew increasingly heavy and reverberant as the number of birds of prey increased.

These dog-headed eagles truly possess canine characteristics. The more they adopt a swarming attack, the less you should show weakness to them, otherwise, like a dam bursting, you'll be overwhelmed.

Each eagle has a different level of hunger and alertness. Some, having just landed on the deck, immediately started eating nearby dead parrots, stretching their S-shaped necks, without even glancing at me. These parrots, after all, were knocked down by me with a long stick for stealing the dried meat.

When the flock of parrots arrives, they circle overhead for a long time, like guests knocking on the door to give the host time to prepare before entering. Or perhaps they first perform a magnificent aerial dance before landing to eat the dried meat—a kind of exchange.

The visits of dog-headed eagles create an indescribable awkwardness. Even when un-escorted caravans are ambushed and robbed, at least the bandits know that the goods are stolen, belonging to someone else.

These scavenging birds, however, don't understand this at all. Any food that hasn't been swallowed by other animals, as long as it's in front of them, within their reach and smell, is considered theirs by the gorillas.

These heads, built on rotten meat, will go to great lengths to get it into their stomachs. They'll even eat carrion until their necks are almost bursting, just to take it back to their nests and then vomit it up to please their mates and offspring.

When they encounter animals below their food chain, the gorillas will pounce without hesitation, as if reclaiming their food. In this environment, if I didn't have a gun, or if they attacked in a group, the food chain could easily be reversed.

Some gorillas, their claws pressing down on recently dead parrots, began to use their hooked beaks to pry and gnaw. The parrot's entrails, still steaming, didn't smell as strong as those from a wild boar's stomach, but the gorillas' keen sense of smell detected them exceptionally well.

The eagles, which had been staring intently at me, gradually succumbed to the allure of the smell. They temporarily abandoned their pecking at me and quickly joined the feast on the deck.

Their greedy pecking at the parrots was exactly as I had observed through the small lens the night before. Their long, bare heads easily reached into the carcass's abdominal cavity, like forceps for an abortion, scooping out clumps of flesh and blood.

These were probably the ugliest and most ferocious of all birds of prey. If their legs, with their sharp talons, were any longer, they would definitely resemble a flock of gliding ostriches.

The once dry and clean deck instantly became filthy. Blood-stained feathers and oozing viscous fluid from liver and intestines resembled blotches of acute ringworm on skin—grotesque and terrifying.

At that moment, I felt the stern of the ship I was standing on begin to tilt and rise. Countless eagles were feasting voraciously and unrestrainedly at the bow. They seemed to have stopped enjoying their food with their mouths, and instead, every part of their bodies was immersed in the pleasure of their meal, swimming and swam.

The wide, winding river, like a ventilation duct in a dense forest, was baked by the sun, and the river breeze, carrying its full heat, rolled over me like a giant wheel. The air I inhaled was already highly pungent and foul-smelling. If another group of similar creatures came from upstream, I probably wouldn't even have a chance to jump into the river.

These eagles were completely absorbed in the pleasure of carrion, and none of them paid any attention to me. Taking advantage of this moment, I touched the submachine gun behind my back to my chest and began to move slowly towards the hatch.

Although I was extremely cautious, every step forward aroused the vigilance of the few eagles at the front. They straightened their long necks, which looked like they were molting from a disease, and their pair of lewd and vicious little eyes glared at me fiercely on their flushed faces.

To these scavengers, my furtive movements and probing seemed like those of an extremely unprofessional colleague. These creatures were utterly disgusting and pretentious, especially the long, dense ring of gray feathers around the base of their necks, mimicking the napkins worn by refined people when dining.

I knew that was to prevent the dog-headed eagles from soiling their feathers when munching on carrion. This made me feel a little sorry for the parrots from before; they ate mostly seeds and fruits they gathered themselves, very clean, so they didn't have napkin-like feathers, but their plumage was naturally beautiful. Chapter

125: Forked Counterattack

Although my body was moving towards the hatch, my heart felt like it was torn in two, one half anxiously wanting to rush into the main cabin, the other half wary of danger, ready to jump into the river at any moment. The area covered by the dog-headed eagles, like melting asphalt, continued to spread downwards along with the haphazardly lying parrots.

Near the hatch, several fallen parrots were attracting five or six dog-headed eagles to peck at them. But I had to grit my teeth and keep going. Since the deck was already covered in blood, there was no point in worrying.

"Coo, coo, coo," my continued approach provoked a fat dog-headed eagle near the cabin door. It had been pecking at parrots with its brethren, but its rotten flesh had corrupted its mind. It thought my approach was an attempt to steal its meat. Its filthy beak, sticky with the parrot's green intestinal fluid, stretched out towards me.

Actually, this dog-headed eagle didn't intend to attack me; it was just putting on a show. It flapped its long wings and swayed its fat rump, like a large gray goose guarding its house in the countryside. Upon seeing a stranger intruding, it stretched its long neck, mimicking a diving attack from an airplane, ready to bite my leg.

I quickly retreated, mimicking the eagle's display of power. It chased me for only a few steps before folding its wings, wriggling its rump, and hurrying back to eat the parrots. It was easy to see that this creature's gait was very much like that of a pregnant woman about to give birth. The difference was that the former's flesh was in the uterus, while the latter's was in the stomach.

The hatch wasn't fully closed, just slightly ajar, and Luya and Yiliang's little heads kept bobbing under the open crack. Judging from the few dog-headed eagles in front of me, it was questionable whether they could even fly after they were full, let alone eat me.

I was afraid that some of the dog-headed eagles at the bow, having failed to get much food, would see their companions in the middle of the deck stuffed and their envious anger would be directed at me, using my flesh to fill their polarized stomachs.

Thinking of this, I risked taking a few more steps forward, the two little girls' eyes blinking nervously with my steps. The dog-headed eagle that had chased and bitten me earlier, having eaten a large parrot back home, had its stomach bloated and aching, as if a decree had been issued to its inherently greedy desires, and it no longer showed any inclination to push me away.

I seized the opportunity, winked at Yi Liang and Lu Ya inside the door, and when I was still fifteen meters away, I leaped up like a long jumper. With a clang, the hatch opened, followed by a thud, and my feet stomped onto the deck in front of it. My

already forward-leaning center of gravity didn't allow me time to stop or turn, and I tumbled inside. I quickly crouched down, curling up like a pangolin in danger, using rolling to absorb the impact.

Chi Chun, standing at the hatch, didn't have time to dodge, and my nose and mouth struck her below the abdomen, between her legs. That soft, elastic area felt like an airbag; my lips only went numb from the friction of her clothing.

But the moment my nose entered her flesh, the feminine scent I caught sent a sharp jolt through my brain, and the scene of washing Chi Chun's genitals in front of the cave flashed through my memory. Guided by the scent, the hair, color, and shape of Chi Chun's private parts flashed before my eyes like a string of fish balls, jolting my nerves.

Old memories flashed like a lightbulb suddenly on in my mind, only to be forcibly shut off within two seconds. "Close the door!" I shouted as I stumbled along, and the iron door behind me slammed shut again. In the instant I turned around, several large, gray-black birds, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, swooped down, blocked by the rapidly closing hatch.

"That's not an eagle, it's a terrifying monster!" Lu Ya, clutching her sniper rifle, was also startled. I didn't reply, heading straight for the ammunition depot. In less than ten minutes, I found five submachine guns and one AK-47 rifle on the pile of weapons. I removed the magazines from the other submachine guns, pried open a box of compatible ammunition, and filled eighteen magazines.

Now, the only weapon with concentrated firepower and the ability to break through the attacking birds of prey is the submachine gun. Since the deck is already filled with the stench of blood and carcasses, triggering the food chain, I no longer need to hold back; I can only unleash my full power and slaughter them.

The number of these eagles far exceeds the number of parrots dead on the deck, and their appetites surpass those at the top of the food chain—they've actually attacked humans. There's no way to compromise with these creatures. If they're full today, they'll be back tomorrow, treating this ship like a rat's den, swarming the deck to devour us.

Back at the cabin door, I gave Luya and Yiliang two submachine guns each, along with four fully loaded magazines. "You two hold the guns with both hands. When you go out, crouch back-to-back in a triangular formation with me. Each submachine gun controls one direction; you need to fire in all directions, leaving no gaps."

The two girls, hearing my words, showed a slight nervousness before going into battle, but they still bit their lips and nodded vigorously. “Don’t be afraid. Those dog-headed eagles are incredibly stupid. I’m doing this to train your mindset for real combat.”

I reassured the two nervous girls with kind words, but after thinking for a moment, I added, “Remember, even in training, you can’t be careless. Treat the simulation like real combat and don’t be the slightest bit sloppy.” They nodded again.

Chi Chun stood behind me, her beautiful face half-hidden by fear. “Give me a gun too. I’ll go with you to chase the vultures.” Chi Chun’s words, though well-intentioned, made my earlier words to the two girls seem like pebbles at the bottom of a riverbed, helplessly revealed after the water was drained.

“You don’t need to go. There are three sniper rifles here. You’re in charge of keeping an eye on them. When I call you, you need to deliver them quickly.” Chi Chun frowned, her beautiful eyebrows furrowing. Now she couldn’t guess my intentions and could only think of it as me being perfunctory.

A clever woman like Chi Chun is sometimes easily misled by her own intelligence. When she can’t guess a man’s thoughts, she doesn’t stop immediately; she simply doesn’t try. Instead, he insisted on imagining himself as a man and talking to himself. So everything that shouldn't have come out came out.

Holding the small mirror I'd tied earlier, I peered out to observe the situation and saw a large flock of dog-headed eagles had spread to the center of the deck. Just as I'd expected, I could first lie prone under the hatch and fire at the enemy's center, taking advantage of their shifting formation to eliminate most of the eagles.

I raised the hatch half a meter, and Luya and Yiliang lay prone on either side. Most of these dog-headed eagles hadn't finished eating at the bow and had flown over to eat the half-eaten parrots. Those that were full naturally ignored us, waiting for their food to digest a little and lighten their load before flying back to their nests.

Those that weren't full were naturally more anxious and wolfed down their food even more. They were foolish precisely because they didn't know what the two girls and I were holding. In a human fight, you'd be riddled with bullets before you could even take your place. But against the low-ranking dog-headed eagles, several levels below us in the food chain, a little tactical maneuvering was all it took to utterly defeat them.

Chapter 126: The Forest's Stomach

"Fire!" With my command, Luya fired at the left flank of the deck with both hands, Yiliang at the right, while I cleared out the middle, the closest dog-headed eagles. Those dense, slow-moving creatures could be wiped out in large numbers by the two girls firing wildly. My real objective was to prevent the large birds from swooping down and harming us.

"Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat..." The bullets seemed to dislike these creatures, whistling and piercing as they burst from the sparking muzzles, heading straight for their target. The

gray-brown dog-headed eagle that had just chased and bitten me still retained its arrogant demeanor. Its stomach was filled with parrot meat, stuffing its neck like a fat woman's legs covered in tumors under her stockings, bumpy and bluish-red. The

satiated eagle appeared exceptionally languid, like a robber who had broken into a boudoir, taken all the gold and silver jewelry, but wasn't in a hurry to leave, thinking himself invincible and wanting to do something more lewd.

As soon as the order to fire was given, I fired the first burst of bullets at the eagle that was increasingly contemptuous of me. In its eyes, I was clearly a large, fat, and easily bullied creature. Protected by its flock, it was incredibly arrogant about its claws and hooked beak.

Eagles are only afraid of leopards and tigers. When these ferocious beasts are eating, the flock will stand humbly to the side, waiting until the prey is full and gone, leaving only a skeleton, before they abandon their lewd reserve and swarm in to fight for it.

Little did they know, those leopards and tigers that they revered, while not as easy to kill as stepping on ants, were still a drop in the ocean compared to shooting a sniper with the same abilities.

A gull-headed eagle, burping contentedly, squinted its fierce, sharp eyes at me and the two girls beside me. I recognized that cold, disdainful look on the face of a mine owner when I was twelve.

He was chewing on a toothpick, embracing a young girl, and yelling at his men to kick me to death. When the girl saw my bloodied face and torn flesh, she suddenly burst into tears. The Vietnamese mine owner, however, grinned lewdly and dragged the crying girl into the house for his pleasure.

Though I don't understand the language of beasts, my intuition from the gull-headed eagle's eyes told me it was contemplating the taste of human flesh. The whistling bullet, as if resonating with the pain of my memory, pierced its neck like countless tiny steel needles piercing an inflated balloon, exploding into pieces and spraying out a thin mist of blood.

Only after its hooked head, amidst chunks of parrot meat, tumbled through the air a few times before landing back on the deck, did its still-active consciousness realize that what it had just chased and bitten was not a fellow scavenger, but the most terrifying killer it had ever encountered.

A dying bird cries out in sorrow. But the gun in my hand gave them no chance to mourn. The left wing was mostly filled with gluttonous eagles; their takeoff speed was like having stones weighing down their feet.

Some were even more panicked, like landlubbers desperately trying to reach the shore, flapping their wings frantically but unable to gain their balance. In an instant, gray feathers scattered across the deck, along with the colorful feathers of parrots, and birds resembling orioles, flitted about in the chaos.

These eagles, who had just been feasting on rotting flesh yet maintained such elegant postures, were like meticulously groomed guests at a high-class banquet. But upon hearing there was a bomb under the table, they fled in terror, their shoes and belts falling off, revealing their utter disarray beneath their modesty.

"Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat..." The bullets made muffled thuds, like bullets hitting a wet, thick blanket. Many eagles, unable to take flight, frantically spread their wings and used their black claws to run towards the bow of the ship. To the bullet, this running speed was utterly comical, like a snail seeing a rooster charging towards it, too frantic to retreat into its shell, forced to run forward with all its might.

The bullet, streaking across the sky with white fire, paid no heed to the eagles' formation or posture; it simply traversed them in a straight line, without hesitation. Now it was time for the submachine guns to finally shine. Before, they couldn't penetrate bear hide in the muddy swamps or hit distant leopards, but now, against those eagles with only a few sparse feathers who dared to roam freely among humans, it was like using a slingshot to hit water—one shot, one hole, one pierce.

Luya and Yiliang were firing simultaneously with both hands, so the bullet density was twice as high. The eagles on either side, their feet slipping and tumbling on the flat deck, couldn't stand up at all.

The bullets were layered and covering the area. Because the deck was flat, most of the eagles' heads and dry, white necks were almost on the same level. No matter which group, they would be brought down by the folding gunfire from above and below before they even took flight five meters. It was like a fighter: jump up, they'd chop off your head; crouch down, they

'd sweep your legs. For a moment, the deck seemed like a giant magnet, pulling back most of the gray-haired eagles' rear ends that had just lifted before takeoff. But sitting down wasn't safe; the deck was like a sizzling frying pan, too hot to land on with their paws or bottoms. Now it was time for them to experience what it was like inside the latrines.

"Rat-a-tat-tat, tat-tat-tat..." Bullets flew excitedly, and the two little girls beside her fired with gusto. Yi Liang's magazine changes were still quick and accurate. Lu Ya swung her slender arm, focusing solely on spraying bullets at the densely packed areas of the dog-headed eagles.

Fear, like a mist cast from the sky, began to spread among these arrogant birds of prey. The moment the hatch opened, the kobolds, which had been poised to peck at me, were terrified after the six submachine guns roared simultaneously. Watching their companions, standing unharmed, their necks snapped and feathers torn apart, I could only be thankful I wasn't wearing pants, allowing me to relieve myself freely. For

the kobolds, the submachine guns were like a "tyrannical king of hell" dismembering monkeys—a classic case of carnage. The heads and legs of these kobolds were sliced off like blades by the bullets, scattered everywhere, replacing the dead parrots.

The kobolds that had piled up at the hatch were the first to be hit, gradually cleared away by the whistling bullets. "Get up, to the center of the deck, in the formation I explained earlier, suppress the large birds at both ends of the ship," I said, standing up and taking my designated position first.

The two girls, under my cover, hurriedly followed. Because these eagles are poor fliers, relying mostly on gliding, their flight overhead gave the impression of an air raid.

Luya continued firing towards the bow, while Yiliang attacked the eagles at the stern. Some of the eagles had lost their bearings and were darting around above us. Even if they weren't attacking us, their sharp, dirty black claws could easily cut us.

I knelt between the two girls, my arms raised in a Y-shape, firing left and right. Golden shell casings clattered onto the hard deck, but made no sound. All around were a cacophony of clucking and squawking. In the chaotic flight, the eagles flapped their wings wildly, but always ended up colliding with each other and crashing back onto the deck.

The eagles flying overhead, like hens climbing a tree, were clumsy and slow; with a flick of my wrist, I could easily bring them down. The bullet pierced its chest and abdomen, covered in napkin-like feathers, instantly destroying the eagle's skeletal structure that supported gliding, causing it to tilt to one side and crash to the ground.

I looked up, my face splattered with dark blood, watching the gray feathers detach from its body, like snowflakes in a sandstorm, drifting lazily down from the sky. As they brushed against my cheek, they were stained with dark blood, their lingering warmth like a pleading, repentant solace, begging me to stop shooting.

This feeling no longer had the itchiness of the parrot feathers I'd felt before, and I was even less likely to stop shooting. Before nightfall, we had to kill as many large birds as possible. These creatures were different from parrots; they forgot the pain once the wound healed, and only remembered the food, not the punishment. If we dried food again tomorrow, these eagles would come again, drawn by the scent. Their wings were controlled by their scavenging instincts, not by their will.

The three of us, like three petals on the water, began to scatter in all directions in the middle of the deck. The number of eagle heads was decreasing rapidly. Firstly, their large size made them easy targets; secondly, bullets had a penetrating power a hundred times greater than arrows. If the eagles were lined up, a single bullet could easily kill five or six.

"Luya, Yiliang, you two slowly sweep forward. Stop firing on targets fifty meters away." Although the bullets were dense, many eagles, desperate to survive, flapped their wings and took flight. For our submachine guns, hitting them would be a waste of bullets, not worth the effort.

"Chichun, sniper rifle!" I shouted, my gun still firing, continuously shooting down six eagles that were about to take flight. These creatures could have escaped many, but they were like goldfish, greedy and overeating; they wouldn't survive long unless they died.

Chichun hadn't expected that I would actually use a sniper rifle against the dense swarm of large birds on the deck. She lowered her head, covered her nose, and ran out of the main cabin carrying three sniper rifles.

I hurriedly dropped my submachine gun, grabbed three sniper rifles, slung two over my back, and held one in my hand, pressing it against the scope. Against the backdrop of the blood-red sunset, a small flock of seven dog-headed eagles was flying back the way they came.

These guys thought that leaving the deck and flying as high as possible would avoid danger. In reality, they should have flown parallel to the deck, into the forest, and out of my sight to be safe. But it didn't matter; they would soon learn that their own actions had backfired, and flying higher was useless.

The blue scope aperture blended with the afterglow of the sunset, becoming a pale ink color. At a distance of four hundred meters, on the T-mark of my aim, as long as it wasn't a flying insect, a single shot was guaranteed.

When dog-headed eagles fly, their two-meter-long wingspan allows them to enjoy the airflow without expending any effort. "Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang." In less than fifty seconds, all seven eagles hovering in the distant sky above my aiming line were hit, and began to fall one by one like air-dropped missiles.

They fell into the forest, and the blood spilling from their bodies would soon attract the nearest carnivores. Whatever they were eaten, they would end up in the forest's stomach.

Chapter 127: The dining table in the middle of the river

was gradually forced by bullets to the bow of the eagles, like airplanes without a runway. They crowded together, barely able to open their wings, and there wasn't enough deck to deflect the airflow before takeoff.

Some eagles even had a moment of inspiration, standing on the edge of the ship's side, leaning their bodies towards the ship, and once their two black claws left the deck, they opened their wings. Like paratroopers parachuting.

The ship's side was ten meters above the river surface, enough distance for the eagles to take off. The few eagles that had successfully taken off earlier flapped their wings in mid-air and made hoarse noises, immediately prompting the flock below to follow suit and scramble for their lives. Lu Ya immediately realized there was an opening in her target, so she quickly swung her pistols aside and focused her fire on the dog-headed eagles on the ship

's edge. A strong, powerful dog-headed eagle, its neck held high and its face dark brown, charged aggressively at Lu Ya, desperately trying to peck at her. Lu Ya hastily withdrew her guns to her chest, and bullets clattered and circled around her, forming a protective shield that startled the turkey-like eagle, causing it to lower its wings and use friction to stop.

The barrage of bullets turned the eagle's face and neck a bright red, as if someone had choked it and forced it to drink a bottle of strong liquor. The enraged eagle then realized that what Lu Ya was using was a thousand times more powerful than its fishhook-like beak; it was on a completely different level of combat.

It frantically looked around, like four red lights flashing simultaneously at a crossroads, warning the other dog-headed eagles to run away quickly and not to approach—they had encountered a ghost. Before its signal-like face could even twitch twice, Lu Ya's bullet shattered its neck. A thick layer of scarlet parrot meat chunks covered the ground. Who would have thought this creature could eat so much? At the stern

, where Yi Liang was responsible for cleaning, several dog-headed eagles began to tumble off the deck, using the momentum to take flight. One old, molting dog-headed eagle, particularly greedy, still carried a piece of parrot meat in its beak even in this tense and fierce escape. Its two grayish-white wings, like a tattered basket, were riddled with holes. It wouldn't be long before it bid farewell to the vast sky.

But the other dog-headed eagles didn't care about its age, all scrambling towards the edge of the deck. As a result, before Yi Liang's submachine gun could reach it, it was hit by its fellow eagle, its body losing control, and slammed heavily onto the deck, finally falling off.

"Splash!" A column of water shot vertically from the river, carried by the gentle evening breeze, and drifted diagonally onto Yi Liang. A few drops of water might have splashed into her eyes, causing her to pause firing. I immediately put down my sniper rifle and strode towards Yi Liang. As I passed the cabin door, I crouched down, grabbed the two submachine guns I had just dropped, and unleashed a barrage of fire on Yi Liang.

"Yi Liang, don't be afraid, I'm right behind you. What's wrong with your eyes? Crouch down and rub them gently." After putting down her gun, Yi Liang quickly covered her eyes with her hands and crouched down as I called out.

"Ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta..." The dog-headed eagles on both sides of the stern, like a flock of ducks crouching on the ship's edge, kept quacking and moving back and forth. Seeing me approach, they seemed even more frightened, beginning to fear my strong physique; their eagle tongues no longer secreted any drooling over a human's muscles.

"Splash!" Another high jet of water shot up from the river below the ship's side. I quickly withdrew my gun from my right hand and fired twelve bullets. On the port side of the ship, a dog-headed eagle with its wings outstretched, about to dive down, immediately had its yellowish-brown feathers tumbling and twisting in the red slurry.

The scorching bullets, like trains speeding through a short tunnel, pierced its fragile body, then plunged into the river surface, striking the gull-headed eagle that spewed water. The eagle, wounded by the bullets, didn't fall in its ideal posture due to the intense pain, but instead twirled backward and disappeared from the deck.

Many of the eagles killed earlier had fallen into the river. Now, the crocodiles lurking around, like tadpoles looking for their mother, formed a circle beneath the ship. As the eagles fell, like gray nipples, when they reached a certain depth, the broad-snouted crocodiles leaped out, their long snouts like clamps catching meat buns, biting them and sinking them into the deep riverbed. At

this moment, the number of crocodiles caused the water on both sides of the deck to change color from bluish-green to dark black. One can imagine that the stench of blood on the large ship reached an unprecedented intensity; the piercing noise of the submachine gun firing likely drew crocodiles from two kilometers upstream and downstream to this location at breakneck speed.

Many eagles, unshot but having landed on the deck, took off too low, too close to the river surface, and were suddenly attacked and bitten by floating crocodiles. Their swift, leaping movements resembled a blue whale leaping from the sea. I thought I should shoot as many eagles as possible into the water as cannon fodder to cover the wild boar meat on the small raft. I figured the raft would have already been overturned by the crocodile claws by now. Judging

from the current situation, the mast timbers were all ready; although they hadn't been dragged onto the deck yet, they were all secured with short ropes to prevent them from drifting away, and there was no need to worry about crocodiles biting them. "Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat." Hearing the gunshots behind me, knowing that Yi Liang had regained her sight, I hurried to check on the wild boar meat on the raft at the stern.

The worst, most terrifying prediction had come true. Not only was the wild boar meat gone, but even the orange raft had been torn apart by the crocodiles, drifting here and there.

My brain went blank for a moment, like discovering a nuclear bomb with only three seconds left at my feet. Despair was too late; I was swallowed by the fear of death. I finally understood that my situation was like that of the European donkey, always thinking it could reach the carrot dangling in front of it, but by nightfall, the distance between its lips and the carrot hadn't changed at all.

The food supplies for the voyage, the timber for the mast—if we gathered both, setting off a day earlier would greatly increase our safety. All our current plans were disjointed and incomplete, like an axe chopping down a tree, severely damaging our confidence.

The crocodiles in the river, even after they'd eaten their fill, wouldn't leave. The area beneath the large ship had become a feast for aquatic predators; they would surely live a life of decadence there for days until hunger forced them to fight back. In

the ammunition depot, only four brand-new small rafts remained; using them to go down the river would most likely result in raft destruction and death. The deck of the large ship had escaped its fate of becoming a bird's nest; in the short term, it was relatively safe. We couldn't go into the water, and we certainly couldn't go into the forest. Without even needing to risk it, one could guess that the edge of the woods on both banks was likely teeming with ferocious beasts.

"Luya, Yiliang, try to kill the eagles on the deck, before the crocodiles get to eat them!" At my shout, the two girls, busy shooting, immediately adjusted their firing positions and directions, aiming at the eagles perched on the gunwale.

Chi Chun, standing at the cabin door like a beauty peeking at her lover through a window, was startled by my shout. Although she hadn't seen the torn rubber raft, she deduced that the wild boar meat was gone.

Chapter 128: Stifling the Enticing Smoke

As the sun, like a red ball shot horizontally, rolled over the distant forest tops, those eagles that hadn't made it back to their nests died on the deck. Luya and Yiliang stopped shooting, took the rifle from my back, and began sniping at the eagles that had just flown a hundred meters.

The afterglow of the setting sun, like a candle about to burn out, gathered its last bit of strength to shine, resisting the eventual suppression of darkness. Standing at the stern of the large ship, the entire deck was a mess, as if a bird plague had just occurred, with feathers fluttering in the wind atop stiff corpses.

Thinking of how much of today's effort had been wasted, a chill ran through me. The setting sun, like blood, stained the inky clouds on the horizon. The fleeing eagles seemed to crash into an invisible pane of glass, the sky turning crimson before they plummeted weightlessly into the endless forest.

"Bang, bang, bang..." The sniper rifles in Yi Liang and Lu Ya's hands, like threads tied to the eagles' legs, dragged them one by one from the sky into the forest.

The large patches of flesh and blood on the deck couldn't be left there overnight; who knew what might lurk in the darkness and crawl ashore? The worst fear was those dangerous creatures that would eat and then return, seriously interfering with our plan to avoid the Sea Demon.

I called all the women out of the cabin, and together we piled up all the shattered, rotten corpses and burned them. I stuffed all the slightly larger dog-headed eagles into the large cage.

Chi Chun asked me if I was slaughtering vultures that night; she was worried about eating them, believing their flesh would be just as unclean as the rotten meat the vultures pecked at. It's like using cow or horse manure as fertilizer in a vegetable garden—suspicious people will naturally have many associations upon seeing cucumbers and green vegetables.

Actually, I didn't want to eat this myself, mainly because of the difficulty in preserving the food. A deck full of white-striped eagles would probably start to spoil and stink after a couple of days of drying.

Chi Chun brought river water in a small bucket for me and the two girls to wash our faces. Because the river is vast and has a strong purifying ability, the water in our hands remained clear and cool.

The burning filth smelled of burnt feathers, accompanied by sizzling and popping sounds. These chunks of meat, containing a lot of oil, naturally expanded and burst when burned, making them somewhat tempting and hungry. It was far from mealtime. I found a rope, hooked one end of a long log tied to the bottom of the boat, and the women worked together to pull it up.

When we encountered heavy beams, the women would pull one end while I stood on the edge of the deck, gripping the large logs with both hands and pulling with all my might. Since my clothes, stained with black blood, had been removed, my bare upper body, arms, shoulders, and back muscles bulged like the forelimbs of a giant beast, especially the sides of my chest. When I was pulling the large logs myself, I felt as if my body was about to sprout wings.

The eighteen large, saturated logs, each nearly twenty meters long, were sturdy and heavy. After our efforts, we finally pulled them onto the deck and dragged them into the hall. The burned bird carcasses gradually shriveled into a pile of black ash. The lives that were fine this morning were now gone in an instant. Birds die for food, indeed.

After I pushed the cage full of dog-headed eagles into the cabin door, I closed the door early to avoid any danger from the lingering smell of blood. Chi Chun went down to the sleeping quarters, carrying a bucket of crocodile meat, to cook dinner for everyone. These past few days, her child had been cared for by the woman with the twins.

The time lost during the day could only be made up for by themselves; this was the price of living. I told the women to rest in their sleeping quarters; those who couldn't fit on the small plank beds could temporarily make do with planks in the passageway. Tonight, I would use the entire night to rush out the tall mast, to make up for the repeatedly lost time.

I knew that these women's bodies, even their lives, were gambled in my hands; if they fell into the hands of those pirates on the Sea Demon, it would be the same as dying with their dignity. Everything must abide by the law of conservation of capacity; making up for lost time was tantamount to putting pressure on oneself, but my heart was as cold as ice, to redeem these women's fate, and also to redeem my own pain.

After the meal, Lu Ya and Yi Liang, exhausted from a day's work, squeezed into a small bed and went to sleep early. Chi Chun also cooked extra meat soup for my midnight snack. She was like a carpenter's wife bringing tea to her husband, her care meticulous and thoughtful.

Chi Chun was indeed very good at pleasing men. From the moment I told the women in the hall to go to bed, she knew I was going to work all night building the mast. This kind of physically demanding work is usually the domain of strong men, so Chi Chun naturally couldn't help. She could only offer me quiet, gentle support.

We selected the longest and thickest log as the mast's base, then joined the sections one by one in an orderly fashion, like a tower structure, yet also resembling a retractable semiconductor antenna. The eighteen logs weren't all joined into a straight pole; there was also a crossbar. The resulting frame closely resembled a fishbone.

When a slender wooden beam was needed at the top of the mast, I would pick the thinnest one, stand on it with one foot, and use an axe to carve it until the weight was suitable. The last piece was the crank handle for swinging the mast. When the sea wind changed direction, people on the deck could pull the rope attached to the crank handle to twist the sail, fully converting the wind power into propulsion for the large ship.

The Snow, carrying cargo from the nameless town, had a motor at the stern. But to take a shortcut through sea areas prone to running aground, they switched to using the mast for propulsion. This avoided collisions that could damage the large ship and the motor, while maintaining the most optimistic speed.

But now, I really wish I could be in two places at every point of operation, listening to the pleasant sound of the motor, clattering away as it carried us away from the Sea Demon, away from this primitive and mysterious island.

Thinking about this, the sound of the motor from my memory unconsciously echoed in my ears, and a feeling of happiness welled up inside me. An uncontrollable smile crept onto my lips. Although the women were all fast asleep in the lower decks, no one saw my inexplicable smile, but I knew that the sweetness in that smile, when combined with the reality before me, would only bring more bitterness.

My hands, wielding the axe, stung with pain. These hands were almost never unscathed, covered in countless wounds and blisters, healing and reopening repeatedly, like the sun and stars in the sky, alternating between day and night. The axe cut into the wood, shavings flying everywhere, making a "tap-tap-tap, crack-crack-crack" sound. Fortunately, the ship was long enough, otherwise the women on the lower decks wouldn't have been able to return home with their broken dreams.

After the mast frame was completed, I used the remaining wood, rope, and wire to make small rafts of about twenty square meters. This way, when launching them, I wouldn't have to worry about spikes, or the teeth of crocodiles and piranhas. Those four small rafts would be kept as a backup after the ship entered the sea; they couldn't be wasted.

Chapter 129: The Pain of the Dry

Well. In the ammunition magazine beneath the dry well, there were several boxes of military daggers, made in Switzerland. Hidden among the layers of dry straw, any dagger pulled out would gleam with a snowy white sheen, exceptionally sharp. They were the kind of cold weapons mounted on rifle muzzles, easily piercing an enemy's neck and heart in hand-to-hand combat.

I used thick wire and pliers to bind these daggers to the edge of the raft, so that when floating on the water, I wouldn't have to worry about clawed water monsters climbing up. Just as dawn was breaking, Chi Chun was the first to rise, her face still alluringly tired from sleep, carrying a bowl of steaming soup as she walked into the hall.

"Have some hot soup to relieve your fatigue, go down to the cabin and sleep for a while before getting back to work," Chi Chun said, bringing her soft, fragrant body closer to me. There was no perfume on the large ship, but Chi Chun's fair skin subconsciously gave off a womanly scent. Especially her delicate, newly awakened state, the barely visible neckline, and the slightest movement of her body, her two full breasts seemed to exude a sweet, fishy scent like a blower.

"What kind of soup is this?" I asked Chi Chun. Chi Chun gave me an ambiguous look, feigning anger, and said, "It's something I took out of your pocket when I was washing your shirt." Her words immediately made me realize that I was naked from the waist up. My upper body was covered in bulging, thick, and hard muscles.

Chi Chun's ambiguous reproach seemed to fuel a curious desire, and as she spoke, she placed her soft, jade-like left hand on my firm, large pectoral muscles, neither kneading nor grasping, like a lost soul in a desert, thirstily searching for water on cracked earth. I picked up the bowl, tilted my head back, and focused only on eating the pork liver porridge, my stomach rising like a thousand applauding spectators to welcome me.

Chi Chun's hand lingered more and more, its movements like a treasure hunter sliding down to my eight-pack abs. Her seductive gaze, like silken threads, tickled my skin.

I handed her the empty, scalding bowl. "Chop up the rest of the pig liver and make porridge for the women who are menstruating. They're still weak and can't afford to get sick at this time." Chi Chun finally understood why I had stuffed two large pieces of wild boar entrails in my shirt pocket.

Hearing this, Chi Chun's cheeks flushed, her temples peeking out like two extra peach blossoms. Her shy beauty, like thick pollen in the air, made it hard for me to breathe.

Her hand, which had been touching my bare torso, clenched into a fist and lightly punched my chest, the muscle closest to her breath, saying, "I'm here too, why don't you think of me?" Before I could look at her alluring eyes in surprise, she shyly pressed her slightly flushed cheeks against my chest.

I knew why Chi Chun was so shy. She also knew that those women who temporarily covered themselves with sheets always had thick blood dripping down their thighs. I, a grown man, should have been careless, but I observed more carefully than Chi Chun, who was also a woman. So, she playfully scolded me.

Chi Chun herself was wearing pants, not sexy women's clothing, or even the kind of provocative outfit she wore when being intimate with her husband, but enough to conceal her menstrual cycle so that a man couldn't know. Chi Chun must have been just like this before, playfully scolding her husband for lusting after other women.

But I couldn't treat everything with the same enjoyment as an ordinary man. This right was ruthlessly taken away from me when I was eight years old and sent to a foreign country. I didn't want to admit that I was a real killer, which made me live in constant anxiety. It was like a bottomless well; sitting inside, looking up at the light at the well's edge, was like standing on the surface looking up at the sun—an unattainable struggle, despair, loneliness, and panic.

Chi Chun's coquettishness should have comforted me, but in that instant, it pulled me even deeper into that bottomless well of pain from my lost life. My observations, involving life itself, carried a heavy weight. Chi Chun didn't understand. The

pork liver porridge in my stomach replenished my body with a large amount of energy, a substitute for the sleep I had missed. I peered out of the hatch through the small mirror, observing the deck, cool and damp with dew. Apart from the ashes from the fire, I couldn't see anything unusual. I climbed onto the gun emplacement with binoculars, carefully observing the surroundings.

At the edge of the forest, a brand new sun rose, like a pinkish-red egg incubating. It was a good day; I could work on the deck and dry the remaining crocodile jerky.

I dragged the completed masts horizontally to the hatch and then pushed them onto the deck one by one. In the middle of the gun emplacement, there was a two-meter-deep, barrel-sized round hole for a machine gunner to stand in and shoot paratroopers and enemies on the water. When logging, the first large tree felled was just the right size to fill that hole.

After tying the ropes, together with the women, we hauled the large logs up the gun emplacement, then, using the method of erecting telephone poles, we inserted the masts into the holes. The whole process felt less like building a mast and more like drilling in an oil field.

Around noon, thanks to everyone's efforts, the mast's frame was erected. Several snow-white waterbirds curiously perched on the top of the mast, marveling at the tower that suddenly appeared in the forest, resembling a radio station.

Luya and Yiliang, seeing the ship beginning to take shape before setting sail, jumped and laughed happily on the deck. Not only the two young girls, but all the other women had an indescribable joy in their eyes, as if the ship had already docked at everyone's home port.

A huge tarpaulin covered the weapons boxes in the ammunition depot; it was perfect as a canvas, waterproof and able to billow in the wind. I carried the tarpaulin onto the deck and spread it out; Luya and Yiliang happily stomped and played on it.

"Hey, you two stop playing around and help me thread the rope along the edge of the tarpaulin." To stop the two girls' playfulness and save time, I gave them some tasks. Luya and Yiliang immediately stopped chasing each other and ran over to get the rope.

"When you thread the rope, don't leave any holes, otherwise the sail won't be able to hold the wind." I instructed them as I dug regular round holes with my dagger. Chi Chun and the other women brought out the crocodile meat that hadn't been dried yesterday. If the wild boar meat from yesterday hadn't been lost, we could set sail by the day after tomorrow at the latest.

Once the ship leaves the waters near the island, we'll truly be free. Then we won't be afraid of drying anything; whale sharks won't be able to get on the deck, much less ram the ship. Occasionally, when albatrosses fly by, we can hunt a few and shoot them down for a change of pace. On calm days, I'll take Luya and Yiliang to sit cross-legged on the gunwale and fish.

The sea is always so generous to the hungry. However, there is one prerequisite: those embarking on a long voyage must bring enough food, otherwise the chances of obtaining food are no greater than in this terrifying island forest.

Chi Chun prepared lunch for everyone early. The morning's work was all physically demanding, so each woman had a bigger appetite than usual and ate with greater relish. Giving them some exercise was a good thing; it could boost their immunity and protect them from the potential risks of insufficient medication.

Chapter 130: Entering the Cooling Food

Chain. The sails were pulled up, and the mast immediately appeared full, like a tall pine tree. Following the shimmering light of the river, the sails billowed into the mast frame. In the gentle river breeze, the deck could be clearly felt swaying underfoot, like a slight tremor.

Wind energy was being converted into kinetic energy, but the ship hadn't yet raised anchor at either end, so the hull swayed between the iron chains. Now, I need to lower the iron anchor and use this stretch of water for a test voyage, finding any imperfections in the mast and making necessary modifications.

Yi Liang and Lu Ya went to the control room to push and pull the anchor rod. One end of the long rope was held in Yi Liang's hand, and the other in mine. The anchor is dropped during river flooding, so large, tangled objects rolling on the riverbed can easily clog the anchor hook, preventing the boat from raising the anchor properly. To avoid malfunctions, I stood at the bow and watched the anchor rise.

A tug on the rope signaled Luya to pull the boom to raise the anchor; three quick tugs told her to stop immediately to prevent burning out the engine. Below the bow, a group of small, willow-leaf-shaped, green-scaled fish darted around the black anchor chain; their reflections startled them, causing them to scatter.

I used binoculars to observe the surrounding water. Several aquatic plants resembling lotus pods emerged from the riverbed at an unknown depth, spreading out large, round green leaves. The river water seemed to be heating up, with wisps of white mist rising continuously from the dense aquatic plants.

"Splash, splash." Flat, elongated dragonfish and catfish with wide mouths and small eyes occasionally leaped out of the water, as if protesting the large ship blocking their swimming space. A swarm of crystal-blue dragonflies occasionally stepped onto the raised water's surface, then warily flew away, wary of becoming food for the dragonfish.

Seeing that the surroundings had returned to normal, and the food chain seemed to have cooled down, I signaled Luya to push the lever to lift the anchor chain at the bow. "Buzz buzz buzz, clatter clatter clatter, splash splash splash." As the engine roared below deck, the heavy anchor chain began to retract, slowly but forcefully dragging the large ship to a position perpendicular to the anchor head, facilitating a straight lift out of the water. Debris

tumbling down from upstream, mostly boulders and fallen trees, gradually increased the ship's draft, indicating the considerable weight hooked on the anchor head. The dark anchor chain, taut and trembling in the water, resembled a tentacle on a giant octopus's claw, forcefully pressing the bow into the water.

I quickly tugged the rope three times, signaling Luya to stop lifting the anchor, then rapidly dropped the anchor, slowly raised the anchor chain, and then rapidly dropped the anchor again when it got stuck. This process was repeated for most of the hour, causing some of the large debris caught on the anchor head to come loose. Finally, hearing the clanging and snapping of the iron chain retracting, I made a small, confident attempt, without telling Luya to stop. With a bit of luck and experience, I finally managed to hook the remaining weight from the bow anchor head and retrieve it.

However, using the same method, I couldn't lift the stern anchor head, which was exactly what I was worried about. Debris washed down from upstream only gets caught on the bow anchor chain when the stern chain can't hold it.

This couldn't go on; if the engine for raising the anchor burned out, the large ship

would be like a slave, forever tethered to the riverbed. Upon hearing this, the women, whose faces had been beaming with joy, fell into silent panic.

This was even more terrifying than having half the food drying on the deck stolen, because guns were useless, and so were schemes—a real difficulty, a real danger. The anchor hook is caught in deep water. Going into the water to check might allow us to retrieve the anchor; without going in, we'll never be able to move the ship.

But the river isn't a swimming pool where we can only consider depth. What we can see in the river, what we've already seen, are crocodiles and schools of piranhas that can kill instantly. We have no idea what dangers are yet to be seen or seen. The only way to find out is to go in and test it ourselves.

Taking a gun into the water is unwise, since none of the weapons in this shipment are Russian-made underwater rifles. With ordinary guns underwater, firstly, foreign objects can get into the barrel, causing the bullet to veer off course; secondly, the water pressure and humidity can easily cause the bullets to misfire. If danger approaches, the gun won't be able to effectively engage the target, leaving no time to react. It's much more practical to hold a sharp knife.

I told Luya and Yiliang to go to the cabin to find diving goggles, and preferably specialized diving suits. This would allow them to stay underwater longer, clean the anchor hook quickly, and prevent leech bites.

All the women were mobilized, searching every corner of the cabin. I didn't dare to sit idle either. I found the steel rod I used to smash crocodile heads with, and used pliers and thick wire to tightly bind two brand-new 25-centimeter-long daggers to both ends, making a double-headed iron spear for easy stabbing.

This was much better than the weapon I used to make—a wooden pole, shoelaces, and daggers—when I first killed a crocodile in the muddy swamp. The weight and density of the steel rod itself would increase the destructive power of the blade tip.

Since the steel rod was nearly three meters long, it was clumsy against close-range predators in underwater combat, so I replaced the two old daggers on my legs with brand-new Swiss steel knives. If I were bitten by a crocodile or something like that, I could pull out the sharper dagger and fight it to the death; the price of eating me would be death.

Apart from a simple black diving mask, the women found nothing. This made my heart sink again. My own body was covered in wounds, and the scabs had only just scabbed over in the last two days. The riverbed, thirty or forty meters deep, felt like the distance from the top of a ten-story building to the ground. If the water pressure were too high and forced the new scar to crack open, the overflowing blood would be like an earthworm on a fishhook, immediately attracting a school of fish to bite.

I put on the diving goggles I had found, put my head into a wooden bucket filled with water, and tested the visibility and the seal. Having this was quite good for the current situation. The surface of the river looked clear and green, but looking deeper, the eerie darkness was truly frightening for anyone going down to the bottom. The sunlight was at its strongest at this time of day, so I had to hurry before going into the water. Whether I could see my own hand at a depth of twenty meters would only be known after I went down.

I used two and a half of the three 400-meter-long ropes to make the mast, and tied the remaining half to myself. Before going into the water, I told the women on deck that if anything unusual happened underwater, I would pull the rope three times. At that moment, they had to pull on the rope and run to the other side of the deck without hesitation, raising me to the surface as quickly as possible.

After explaining everything, each woman was terrified. They knew that if anything happened to me, the way home would be lost in the darkness. They also knew that if I didn't go into the water, the large ship would never move.

I remained shirtless, my trousers rolled up to my knees and tightened with my shoelaces. I couldn't wear my military boots either; at the bottom of the river, they would feel like two lead weights. Inexperienced people always worry about exposing their skin when going into the water here, so they try to wear some clothing.

In fact, that's the most dangerous thing; clothes not only absorb water and increase the burden, but they can also get caught. Whether I get bitten by poisonous insects depends on luck, not the clothes. Whether I can escape from the jaws of crocodiles depends on the fight.

Chapter 131: The Cableway That Summons the Dead

With brand-new daggers strapped to my calves and a double-headed steel spear in hand, I began to climb down the anchor chain at the stern. The rope around my waist had to maintain a certain tension with me; otherwise, once I entered deep water, the signal transmitted through the rope would weaken. If danger were to strike below, even a second's delay could mean death or loss of limbs.

The sunlight, though making the river water cool and refreshing, concealed deadly dangers like shards of ice. The moment my feet touched the clear, green water, a chill ran through me, sending a shiver down my spine as if needles were pricking my back.

There was no choice; I had to hurry. I took a deep breath and followed the anchor chain towards the underwater anchor head. Once the water covered my head, I entered a damp, silent world. The large ship and the women on board seemed to shrink, standing within my heart.

My left hand gripped the cold, lifeless anchor chain at the bottom of the river, my legs clinging to it like vines, trying to camouflage myself as if I were a inchworm perched on a plant stem. Although my lungs were limited in oxygen, I couldn't descend too quickly or abruptly. If my legs, entangled in the chain, slipped, my body would sway like a forked branch after a bird has flown away, easily attracting the attention of predatory aquatic creatures.

The dark, icy anchor chain felt like a cableway to a dark hell, and I was like a lost soul, obeying its call to climb. The water temperature and light were dropping rapidly, and the surroundings were increasingly resembling a winter night. With gurgling bubbles, the chilly river water seeped into every pore of my body. My chest felt tight, and my cheeks felt uncomfortably flushed.

Those seaweed-like plants I had previously seen, now obscured by the lack of light, were like the hem of a beautiful woman's skirt—I could no longer see their roots. The dragonfish and catfish around me swam away warily when I reached five meters into the water.

A few plump and bold aquatic fish, noticing my slow movement, immediately swarmed around me, rubbing against my chest and back. They probably mistook me for a large fish, vying for my business, using their soft, ticklish mouths to suck at my skin, hoping to find parasites.

The oxygen in my body was my brief but precious life in the black water. If I were to free my hands to grab and pinch off these clumsy aquatic fish now, it would be like a person reaching middle age suddenly realizing they'd wasted the first half of their life.

The aquatic fish had no scales; their skin resembled that of a loach, each about the size of a ripe corn cob. I estimated I was at least fifteen meters from the anchor hook. The darkness of the deep water completely swallowed me, and the fear within me, like bacteria cultivated in the darkness, rapidly expanded and spread. At this moment, I would be grateful for even half a bag of gold from the galley roof if I had a diving light.

Every movement in the water consumed oxygen; the oxygen in my lungs was dwindling, and I had to allocate it precisely and efficiently. Before surfacing, severe oxygen deprivation could instantly kill tens of thousands of brain cells. If one couldn't hold their breath and inhaled a mouthful of river water, sudden death was a real possibility. The blood in my nasal cavity would attract the bites of crocodiles and piranhas in a very short time.

The deeper I went into the dark, deep riverbed, the harder my heart felt, the excruciating pain. The diving mask covering my eyes still held air from the deck, but my pupils couldn't breathe. I could feel the two streams of oxygen inside, but they couldn't draw in my already deteriorating blood.

The buoyancy of the water, like an invisible hand, seemed to prevent me from getting closer, forcefully pushing and pulling my body, coiled around the anchor chain. This forced me to exert force with my hands and feet, clinging even more tightly to the heavy iron chain, consuming the oxygen already depleted in my body.

Several times I considered discarding the heavy double-headed iron spear to alleviate the unbearable pressure, but I gave up the idea. On land, a gun was my means of survival; now, the double-headed spear was my only means of survival in the water.

The surrounding darkness exuded a chilling, domineering aura, towering above the concept of light, like falling into a vat of thick ink, beyond the reach of even a diving light. The double-headed steel spear in my hand was not only a weapon to slay the attacking water beasts, but also a pillar of support, supporting my mind as it was crushed by the terrifying space.

I kept moving my big toes to keep them warm and prevent cramps. The cold of the dark riverbed felt like countless icy needles, piercing my skin's pores and seeping into my very bones. My teeth were the first to be conquered, trembling and chattering. My heart, feeling the clanging of my teeth, was like a restless deserter, wishing it could leap out of my throat and float to the surface of the wide river.

"Bang." With a sharp pain in my head, like a blind person hitting a wall, I frantically reached out to touch it. My left hand, like lobster antennae, tapped and groped forward, but dared not press too hard.

I feared sharp objects might cut my fingers and draw blood; yet I dared not use the spearhead to poke, lest I pierce a water monster lurking at the bottom of the river, and it would howl and bite like a cat whose tail had been stepped on—far more swift and terrifying than a crocodile devouring a person.

My fingertips probed, like a small machine launched by Americans to Mars, capturing some ambiguous information. From the pain in my scalp and the texture I could feel, I deduced that what I couldn't see was a huge rock; I stretched out my arms but couldn't touch its edge, its size was unclear, or perhaps it was an underwater rock wall.

The oxygen in my lungs had already reached a negative level; even if I finally managed to find the anchor hook, I couldn't afford to linger. I gripped the chain firmly with both hands, switched the position of my head and feet, and then lashed the rope tied around my waist three times.

The pull on the deck, like an electric current flowing through an electrical wire, rapidly pulled my body upwards. I gripped the anchor chain tightly with both feet, lifting the steel bar between my chest and the chain, like a glider tilting upwards in the water. But the muscles in my legs and abdomen were chafing painfully. The women on deck, like anglers intently watching their floats, were waiting for the line to twitch so they could quickly reel it in. They must have thought that the crocodiles underwater were chasing and biting me.

I was being pulled terribly by the rope, like a large piece of wood being scraped by a saw. But compared to the thirst for oxygen, escaping the crocodile's jaws was a kind of pain within extreme pleasure.

In an instant, the pressure on my body, the light in my eyes, and the water temperature on my skin were getting closer and closer to human conditions. With a loud "splash," water splashed everywhere, followed by a breath that seemed to engulf the world. I shook my head violently, shaking off the water jets from my long hair and mouth and nose, making my breathing easier.

In that instant, I saw the light of day again, as if I had just been reborn. Lu Ya and Yi Liang's faces were pale. Only after seeing that I was safe and sound did their relieved smiles flicker across their stiff faces, like eels in dried mud, thrashing about but not diving back in. I knew their worry for me far outweighed their concern for whether the ship would eventually move or carry the lost people home.

Chapter 132: The Upside-Down Cat in the Barrel

When my body burst out of the water, the fish attached to my body followed due to the speed. These creatures, mistaking me for someone leaping out of the water, quickly returned to the water. Their slimy skin gradually sensed the evaporation effect of the air, and their bean-sized eyes immediately radiated fear.

I straightened my chest and took a few steps from the edge of the deck. The women who had gathered around me immediately retreated in fright, their astonished eyes fixed on my bare upper body. River water pattered down my bulging muscles and dripped onto the deck.

With each deep breath, my lungs and heart finally replenished their oxygen and began to function normally again. Only then did I have time to look down at what was clinging to me. Several small creatures, resembling miniature sharks, had exceptionally lush fins and barbels, their silvery-gray skin covered with countless star-like, oval-shaped black dots.

I had seen similar freshwater fish in Thailand; these were most likely river catfish, unlike the leeches and scorpions that could harm human skin. One of the catfish, clinging tightly to me, stared at me, then, startled, let out a splatter and thrashed onto the deck, bouncing around.

The deck was hard and dry; it was nowhere near as comfortable for it as it was in the water. The creature's skin began to wrinkle, as if coated with wax or sealed shut. I grabbed the catfish still hanging from my chest and back and had Luya bring a small bucket.

Only after Luya's soft little hands placed them in the wooden bucket did the five catfish, still foaming at the mouth, begin to drink with their mouths, which resembled scallion roots, no longer writhing in discomfort. I could have simply smashed them to death on the deck, or made some fish soup for dinner. But seeing their distressed state after being pulled from the water, just like when I first entered their world, I felt an indescribable emotion.

"Luya, let's keep these five swimming cats in the wooden tub," I said, stretching my limbs to ensure my blood was well-oxygenated. She remained squatting beside the tub, staring intently at the fish in the water. After a long while, she raised her somewhat childish face and asked in surprise, "How did you catch them? They seem even dumber than trout. Hehe."

Luya's mention of trout immediately reminded me of the cave, the dead Cang Gui, and the approaching Sea Demon. Chi Chun examined my body and found no signs of leeches on my upper body or calves. I picked up the double-headed steel spear again, preparing to go into the water a second time.

Having learned from the previous experience, locating the anchor head with high holding capacity was much easier. Since I wasn't bleeding, the chances of attracting piranhas or crocodiles were slim. However, the loud noise from surfacing might have alerted large underwater predators. Therefore, I decided to let the turbulent river calm down for a while, waiting for any large underwater predators to leave before diving again; this would significantly reduce the risk.

Even with the engine's power, I still couldn't pull back the anchor with high holding capacity, meaning the hook was likely stuck in a crevice. Unfortunately, there was no visibility below, and I couldn't plant explosives. I had to go down to the bottom again to investigate and determine the best method.

I tightened the rope around my waist, put on my makeshift diving mask, grabbed my sharp weapon, and began my second dive. Following the anchor chain, when I reached five meters, I could still clearly see the twisting lotus root. I then realized that during my first dive, I had been so nervous that I hadn't even recognized the lotus root.

The air I was holding in my mouth felt much fresher than before. Clinging to the anchor chain, I quickened my pace as

I descended. The changes in pressure and light seemed to be happening much slower than I'd anticipated. I was grateful to the few catfish swimming against the current; they made me feel that descending to this dark riverbed was like returning to the deck of a fish, not something to be overly terrifying. I mentally prepared myself, arching my body like a inchworm, navigating the most vulnerable water layers.

However, my fears still surfaced. The eagle carcasses had certainly fed many crocodiles, but they hadn't extinguished their aggression. Looking to my right through my diving mask, I saw a long, four-clawed aquatic beast charging excitedly.

That feeling immediately made me realize that the food chain had reversed. When the monstrous creatures were still alive, I could safely stand on the deck, using sharp hooks to pull them up one by one, smashing their claws with a hammer, and shattering their skulls with a steel rod.

Now, I'm about ten meters from the water's surface. Pulling the rope back quickly would be even more dangerous, and it would waste a lot of time. Given the crocodile's swimming speed, it would probably bite off half my leg the moment I surfaced.

The water is the crocodile's weapon, its fleshy hook. A person's movements in the water are like slow motion in a movie, losing most of their fighting ability. Crocodiles, on the other hand, are as agile in the water as birds in the sky; the pressure and buoyancy of the water amplify their attack power several times over. Most importantly, humans don't have gills.

At this moment, I quickly gripped the anchor chain tightly with my legs, held the spear in both hands, and waited for the crocodile to approach. If it weren't for the lack of oxygen, I could have fought like a lone general on horseback, battling off the thousands of enemies at the bottom of the river. At this moment, courage is the only hope for survival.

Going up is impossible, and running to the bottom is endless darkness and dangerous. I hope the crocodile just runs over my head and doesn't come at me. Crocodiles' eyes are positioned high up, making them poor at observing the underwater surface. Unless they've already targeted their prey.

When the crocodile swam above me, it didn't slow down or submerge; it resembled a small boat, as if escaping a chase. I wasn't holding my breath long enough to find the anchor with its strong grip, so I had to go up to rest before coming back down. Seeing the large, hurried crocodile disappear into the distance, I quickly tugged the rope three times. A surge of electricity-like force pulled me back onto the deck.

Gasping for breath, I saw Luya holding a sniper rifle and realized why the crocodile had rushed past. I said to Luya, "You fired." She didn't speak, but nodded as if afraid of being blamed, avoiding my gaze.

"Did you hit the crocodile? It's hard to hit them in the water because of the refraction of light." Seeing my gentle tone and lack of blame, Luya blinked her big eyes and said, "I hit its neck. I was afraid the bullet would hurt you, so I didn't dare fire a second shot. Originally…"

She hesitated. "You were afraid of getting blood in the water, right?" I picked up on the little girl's hesitant words and said with satisfaction. Luya did the right thing. If she hadn't fired, I would have only two outcomes: either I would have suffocated underwater, or I would have been eaten by the crocodile.

I pressed Luya's little head, and she stubbornly resisted, her beautiful big eyes looking at me defiantly. "Alright, take your little bucket of fish and go play for a while." With that, I released her and climbed onto the gun emplacement.

The women were puzzled; the strong iron hook was still stuck underwater, and the large ship had no other way to move, yet I was leisurely enjoying the scenery on the gun emplacement. Only I know that for someone who has just escaped death, nothing is more satisfying than breathing freely in the air.

Chapter 133: The Revelation of the Tranquil Rain

The red sun on the horizon sank below the forest, and the calm river surface began to shimmer. A breeze picked up. The low, damp air made the dry gun emplacements sticky. A

few rumbling claps of thunder sounded like tens of thousands of soldiers in the forest, beating war drums and marching in perfect unison. "It's going to rain." Standing not far from the deck, Yi Liang stretched out her small, white hand and looked up at the sky. It was as if she wouldn't believe her words until she saw raindrops fall into her palm.

A cool, refreshing river breeze gently blew onto the ship, making Yi Liang's beautiful long hair flutter. I gently turned my face, gazing at this gentle, sensible, yet innocent girl.

The river breeze tossed my long hair, causing the ends to constantly brush against the corners of my eyes and mouth, but I still gazed at Yi Liang. A crisp, cool raindrop landed on the tip of my nose, and I unconsciously looked up, gazing at the sky with Yi Liang, feeling an indescribable peace.

These few raindrops seemed like a tranquil rain summoned by Yi Liang, dripping onto the soil of my heart. Her earlier mutterings were actually expressions of worry for me. From the large ship drifting uncontrollably into the middle of the river to the anchor failing to be retrieved, all previous efforts had now come to a futile end.

Yi Liang knew that the person suffering the most was me. Only I knew of the approaching Sea Demon, but I couldn't tell them, otherwise it would only cause unnecessary panic. Chi Chun, along with the women, began to salvage the crocodile meat that was drying. The arrival of this rain once again disrupted our food storage process.

However, it didn't make me anxious. From the moment Lu Ya brought over the wooden bucket and put the five swimming cats inside, I realized that raising live fish could both preserve food and avoid drying it, saving a lot of time. The meat drying on the deck was all carried into the ship's main hall. Every woman's hair was damp, as if it had been rubbed with a towel after a bath.

Chi Chun came over with a worried look and told me that the crocodile meat was still very moist, and if the rainy days lasted longer than two days, most of it would spoil and smell bad. I took a hammer and smashed down the metal racks in the corner of the armory, piling them in the middle of the hall. After some effort, I finally managed to make a makeshift grill using wire, pliers, and sheet metal.

The grill was supported by four one-meter-high iron pipes, with two sheets of sheet metal spaced thirty centimeters apart tied to it. The bottom layer could be used to add firewood, while the top layer was used to roast fresh meat. In this way, the charcoal fire wouldn't reach the hall floor, and it could fully heat the sheet metal used to hold the food.

When Chi Chun saw my little creation, a knowing smile immediately spread across her beautiful face, like a wife returning home to find that her husband had brought back a kitchen utensil she had long desired. A sweet and delightful feeling.

Before I could speak, Chi Chun dragged all the semi-dried crocodiles to the grill, knowing what to do next. The large logs felled yesterday contained too much moisture to burn, but the tables and chairs piled up in the storage room were good firewood. I swung my axe and chopped all the extra tables and chairs into sticks, enough to feed us for a month.

Lu Ya and Yi Liang also used a piece of thick iron wire to dry the crocodile meat with heated sheet metal. This method, though wasteful of resources, was much more efficient than sun-drying.

The cabin door remained open, and thick smoke rose to the white, ornate chandelier, spreading along the ceiling towards the door frame, finally dissipating on the wind-swept deck. The weather outside turned gray, the wind was light but the rain was fine, threatening continuous drizzle. The smoke from the barbecue, billowing out at this time, was less likely to reveal the large ship.

"Luya, go get two crocodile catfish, thread them onto the wire and grill them, one for you and one for Yiliang." I sat beside the grill, bending a wire with pliers. Luya sensed my tone and knew I was teasing her, so she pouted playfully and said, "No, they're very well-behaved lying in the wooden tub, hehe." She and Yiliang exchanged a glance and laughed simultaneously.

A short while later, I had made a small tool. Luya put down the crocodile meat she was grilling, ran from the group of working women to me, and squatted down, her big eyes wide, watching intently.

"The pole is so short, you can't catch any fish, not even butterflies." Although Luya was watching with great interest, she still couldn't figure out what the large strainer in my hand, which looked like a dumpling scoop, was for.

I didn't answer, turning my head to look at the exposed thighs of the mature women. Each one was symmetrical and full; if curled up and pressed against a man's lower abdomen, it would be like a train journey to paradise, sending him to bliss. But then

I thought it wouldn't work. Even those sexy, alluring legs encased in alluringly colored stockings would be like the rough, impatient fingers of a man torn the stockings to shreds in a few strokes to the wild fish of this primitive river.

I put down the frame of the small tool I had made and went straight to the sleeping pods. Luya followed me like a little shadow, watching me intently, determined to understand the purpose of my tool. Much of the sleeping pod's sheeting had been cut off with the dagger to make modesty clothing for the naked women. The curtains of each sleeping pod were made of a polyester fabric with densely packed pores that effectively filtered water. I estimated their length and width and then tore off several large pieces to make mesh.

The top of the large, sieve-like tool was an oval-shaped thick wire loop. I used the cut-off curtains to make a 30-centimeter-deep net, which I securely placed over the loop. This short-handled fishing net was thus created.

Luya pouted, her brow furrowed, unable to understand how such a small tool, even when perched on the gunwale, could reach so far into the river and catch fish. Raindrops pelted the deck outside, splashing and drifting like smoke.

The damp air, though slightly chilly, was warming the women roasting crocodile meat around the fire, their beautiful faces flushed with a rosy glow. I tied most of the polyester curtain to the edge of the small raft, securing sharp daggers beneath it to prevent clawed beasts from climbing and torn the curtain itself.

When I stood in the middle of the raft and poked a thin stick vertically upwards, the netting around the raft would suddenly rise like four small walls, surrounding me.

This obstacle, even if it surrounded Luya, could be easily kicked through by her slender legs, but against a palm-sized river fish, it would be an impenetrable fortress. My action was immediately seen through by the oblivious Luya. She clapped her hands happily, jumped onto the raft lying on the floor, and mimicked my action of raising a pole, giggling.

Chapter 134: Wooden Kites on the River

I went to the ammunition depot, retrieved four brand-new small rafts, and began inflating them in the hall. Luya was dumbfounded again. She knew rafts were for catching fish, but she had no idea what four inflated rafts were for. "Are we all going to get off the boat to catch fish?" Luya asked again, drawing out her question. This time, she was completely baffled.

"No, just you and I will go fishing." As I spoke, I picked up the bucket tied with the rope and stepped onto the deck in the rain. The entire forest was shrouded in mist, the dense leaves washed exceptionally clean by the rain, causing the banks to shimmer with a vibrant green light. The sky was half black and half white, creating a hazy, mysterious sensory world.

The icy raindrops, shattering on my ears, cheeks, and shoulders, instantly drained my body heat, causing my subcutaneous nerves to twitch uncontrollably. The dense, piercing sound of the rain made the large boat sound like scallions sizzling in hot oil.

Standing beneath the boat, I quickly hauled a bucket of clear river water back to the main hall and poured it into the raft, which had bulged into a bathtub shape. As expected, yet with a touch of exasperation, Luya clapped her hands happily and went to fetch her five upside-down cats, which she kept in a wooden tub.

I knew what the little girl was thinking and quickly tried to dissuade her, saying, "Don't put the upside-down cats in the raft. As long as they live in the tub, they won't end up on our dinner table." Luya didn't understand me, but she abandoned the idea I had just pointed out.

However, she did understand one thing: if the upside-down cats were put in the raft, they might be eaten. I found two raincoats, two pairs of tall rubber boots, and two pairs of stiff hemp gloves—the kind welders wear—as fishing gear.

The raft could be disassembled in the middle during construction, and then hooked together again through the narrow hatch, making it very convenient and sturdy. The mast frame on the gun emplacement stood tall, soaking wet. I untied the long rope from it, secured the raft, and then pushed it into the water from the ten-meter-high deck.

"Thud! Splash!" The heavy raft planks slapped the rain-drenched river surface like a giant hand. I pulled the rope to the stern, using the anchor chain there to lower the raft down.

One end of the rope remained fixed to the mast. I handed the rope to Yi Liang, who was wearing a raincoat, and tucked her raincoat hood to keep her fair forehead from getting wet and cold.

Lu Ya also put on her raincoat and came to me. I pulled her over, checked her large rubber boots and stiff hemp gloves, and tied her trouser legs and cuffs securely with thin thread before I was at ease.

A short, thick rope was used to secure Luya's slender waist, and she was first placed on the raft. "Don't be afraid, squat down here. Yiliang is holding the rope, you won't drift away, I'll be down in a minute."

After saying that, he tossed six dog-headed eagles that had been dead all night onto the raft. Luya squatted in the middle of the raft, her small head tucked into her raincoat hood, straining to look up at me. "Don't be afraid, I'm right above you." I tried to keep the call going, to ease her fear of being alone on the water.

"I'm not afraid, hurry up and come down." Luya below couldn't help but urge me on. I tried to get as close to the gunwale as possible so she could see half of my body. Chi Chun, wearing an oilcloth, handed over all the larger basins, pots, and buckets that were usable.

The hook rod used to kill crocodiles was used to lower these items onto the raft. After everything was ready, we began to check the weapons. This time, I didn't bring a submachine gun, but instead carried two fully loaded AK rifles. If the crocodile was really being unreasonable and tried to climb onto the raft with a dagger pointed at it, I'd let it experience the full force of these bullets.

On my lower back were two pistols, two full rifle magazines, and a broadsword. On either side of my calves were brand-new daggers. This was enough to deal with any sudden danger. Combat wasn't the goal; Yi Liang's rope would quickly pull us back to the anchor chain. When locked up, Yi Liang could also snipe from a distance.

Climbing the slippery iron chain, I carefully descended onto the raft and arranged all the miscellaneous items in the middle. When Lu Ya saw me approach, she immediately stretched out her warm little hand and gripped my belt tightly. That girl's nails were thin and smooth like transparent crystal, scratching my waist muscles painfully. I remembered when we escaped the ghost monkeys on the shore, her nails scratched my face.

“Don’t be afraid. You’re a sniper, you’ve shot so many birds and animals. Those creatures in the river should be afraid of you,” I comforted her, hoping she would relax quickly. She didn’t know that the hand gripping my belt was making me incredibly uncomfortable.

This kind of raft should ideally be propelled by a long bamboo pole, driven into the mud at the bottom of the river. But in this wide river, it would be difficult to find even a forty-meter-long bamboo pole in the world to propel the raft.

I used the long hook to push the large boat hard, letting the raft drift as far as it could. The shallow water where we had previously cut down trees was teeming with piranhas, mostly hiding under the weeds, making them less vulnerable to crocodile bites. Moreover, in the past few days, the piranhas in that area had eaten a lot of flesh and blood, and were probably still lingering nearby.

The raindrops pounded heavily on the raft and on the brim of Luya’s raincoat. She gradually adjusted to the floating sensation and straightened up. But her little wet hand was still gripping my belt tightly. "Your body is so cold, why aren't you wearing a raincoat?" Lu Ya stretched out her other hand, pulled at the brim of her hat, and tilted her head back.

She wanted to see how the raindrops, pelting my shoulders and cheeks, would lightly shatter. I squinted, my long, loose hair clinging to my forehead and neck. My bare upper body, though muscular and making me look unusually fierce, didn't feel cold.

I looked down at Luya; she was still upturned in her rain hat, her pretty little face tilted back, her big eyes blinking, waiting for my answer. I used my rough fingers to tug at the brim of her hat, pressing her stubborn little head back down. "Be careful not to get water in your neck, or you'll catch a cold. I'm not wearing a raincoat because I'm afraid you'll fall into the water, so I can grab you immediately,"

I said, shielding my eyes with my hand as I looked at the steaming deck. Yi Liang, like a little soldier on guard duty, wore a wet, shiny raincoat, carried a sniper rifle, and paced in the fine, misty rain, constantly raising his hands to watch us through binoculars.

The rain hadn't sped up the river at all. The raft, relying on its limited power, steadily moved closer to the logging site. Whenever it veered slightly off course, Yi Liang on the deck would tug on the rope, making the raft resemble a kite on the river.

I poked the net-hauling stick a few times and, finding everything normal, took the Aka rifle from my back and had Lu Ya sling it over. "Don't panic. Whatever water monsters come near our raft, just blow their heads off." Lu Ya, feeling the rifle, seemed much more confident.

Chapter 135: Inertia in the Face of Conspiracy.

These fleshy buds with gray feathers were evenly packed into the gaps along the raft's edges. If the piranhas came to eat them, it would be as difficult as gnawing on chicken ribs. Soon, large whirlpools began to appear on the river near the forest. The water's color changed from a dull yellow to pink.

These creatures, when tearing at crocodiles in the muddy, shallow water, their orange-red bellies and tail fins reflected a similar color onto the surface. Some piranhas even lunged forward, lying flat on their backs, tearing flesh from their prey without a care for the danger of stranding.

The netting along the edge of the raft had already sunk beneath the surface. I quickly gripped the rod, waiting for them to collectively plunge into the trap. These piranhas, once they smell blood in the water, become like addicts, feeding recklessly.

"Swish, swish, swish..." In an instant, the ripples along the edge of the raft trembled violently. Countless frenzied piranhas, like rats grinding their teeth, fiercely gnawed at the edge of the wood. As if a saw had cut a circle at the bottom, Luya and I would plunge into the abyss.

The piranhas' square mouths were filled with sharp, serrated teeth, and the grinding, pecking sound was chilling. Luya was a little scared, but I knew the raft was secured with wire and wouldn't be bitten through by the piranhas, and we wouldn't fall into the water.

I gently comforted Luya, telling her not to panic and to get used to the sound. The fish in the water should be the ones panicking now; we are the ones in the trap. Their attacks are like bacteria, penetrating everywhere. The sharp edges of their blades, once they pierce the blue-red scales of a piranha, are torn to shreds by the swarm of fish behind before a second line of blood

even appears. The fish around the edge of the raft are gathering larger and larger, some even jumping onto the raft in their impatience. This clumsy, mishap is more comical than the trout swimming upstream in the shallows, making Luya laugh and lessening her fear considerably.

"Don't get distracted. The denser the fish, the greater the chance of attracting crocodiles. When I pull in the net with the stick, quickly put down your gun, grab the short-handled net, and catch these jumping fish. Try not to grab them with your hands; their teeth can easily slice off your fingers."

Hearing my words, she nodded vigorously, her expression a mixture of surprise and delight, eager to try. Seeing the opportunity, I suddenly stood up and raised the wooden stick used for pulling the net high. Countless ferocious fish, each the size of a foot, were immediately caught in the net and pulled onto the deck.

Their small, dark eyes were wide open in fear, their square mouths contracting rapidly, like mute people crying for help, making smacking noises.

In an instant, chaos erupted on the raft as over two hundred piranhas thrashed about, disregarding direction and consequences. These creatures were indeed vicious; even trapped on the raft, they didn't forget to clash their teeth and attack indiscriminately.

Fortunately, Luya and I had changed into thick, high-top rubber boots before coming to catch them. The slippery surface prevented those tiny, sharp teeth from hooking onto us, like turtles trying to climb glass. "Luya, don't stand there like an idiot! Use a short-handled net to catch them and put them in large basins, buckets, and steel pots. Don't damage their scales!"

Luya quickly bent down, her slender body wrapped in a raincoat, and used a sieve-like net to catch the piranhas. I held a stick in one hand and an AK-47 rifle in the other, wary of the crocodiles approaching. The polyester netting, sticky with water droplets and covered in tiny scales, was intact, firmly trapping the creatures leaping about on each raft. This

pristine river, untouched by human intervention except for the natural cycle of the food chain, was unaffected by the chemical processes of human activity. Piranhas severely disrupt the food chain; their reproduction rate should be controlled by predation by crocodiles and gharials. In the mere 1,000 square meters of water before us, five hundred to a thousand piranhas could instantly swarm. It was easy to imagine that anyone swimming on the shore would become a skeleton sinking into the mud.

As long as Luya and I didn't fall into the water, catching five or six hundred wouldn't be difficult, just like fishing in a fishpond. Seeing my gesture, Yiliang on the deck quickly steered the raft back. Three large basins, five wooden buckets, and two large pots were filled with throngs of fish heads.

Just moments ago, the ferocious wild fish roamed the vast river, but now they huddled obediently in the container like a group of prisoners being escorted. Occasionally, two or three would flick their fleshy red tails, trying to burrow through the bottom of the basin and swim back to the free river. But freedom no longer belonged to them.

Luya, carrying an AK rifle, dressed like a child laborer in the rain, kept looking down, excitedly and contentedly glancing at the basin and then at the bucket. She had personally caught over two hundred plump piranhas, using a sieve net to trap them in the container.

The light dimmed considerably, making the rain seem heavier. Yi Liang, Chi Chun, and the others tied ropes and lifted all five buckets of piranhas up. Since the basin was inconvenient to pull, I used a sieve net to transfer the fish into the wooden bucket.

These piranhas were smaller than the claw of an adult crocodile, but their ferocious appearance was no less impressive. Below the fish's mouth, there was an irregular patch of orange-red, which at first glance looked like a cannibalistic monkey

. Suddenly, it turned its head, its chin and chest hair covered in blood. I didn't climb onto the deck; the dog-headed eagle's carcass was still stuck on the edge of the raft, and the crocodile could poke out its ugly, ferocious head at any moment to ambush anyone standing unsuspecting. So, we couldn't be careless and leave Luya alone on the raft. Chi Chun and the others, covered with tarpaulins, poured the live piranhas into the water-filled raft and hurriedly returned them to the containers.

I poked the big boat again with the hook, and the raft began to move closer to the other shore. I thought we could catch two or three hundred piranhas there in a while. These wild fish only know how to be vigilant in the food chain and are very lazy to be caught by human traps.

They are like migrant workers coming out of a train station, only knowing to be wary of thieves, but completely unsuspecting of criminals pretending to offer them jobs. The hard metal wires overcame their teeth, the very means of survival; the hidden nets robbed them of their freedom. And all humans had to pay was courage and cunning.

Half an hour later, over three hundred more were caught from this side of the riverbank. They looked larger; presumably, the crocodiles' dens weren't on this side. As soon as the raft touched the iron chains, the sky darkened to the point where only the outlines of fingers could be seen.

After bringing all the fish caught the second time onto the deck, I first tied Luya's waist tightly, then had the women pull her into the air. I quickly climbed onto the deck myself, and with a strong, powerful hand, lifted the little girl dangling in mid-air back into my arms.

Chapter 136: The Awakening Emerging from the Drum
Lightning, like countless roots embedded in dark clouds, unleashed deafening thunder in the darkness, like a forest roaring. Another storm struck from the sea, seemingly a continuation of the short, torrential downpour of a few days ago.

Even with plenty of fresh game meat, there was no chance to dry it. Thinking about the lost wild boar meat actually made me feel much calmer. Now, with the oven in the ship's main hall, the remaining crocodile meat can be eaten within a week without worrying about spoilage.

The raft wasn't brought onto the deck, but firmly secured to the stern. Chunks of dog-headed eagle flesh, stuffed

into the gaps around it, were left for the ferocious water beasts to devour; their sharp-edged daggers would pay the price. On deck, nothing was afraid of the rain, except for the empty mast, standing alone in the wind and rain. Back in the cabin, we hurried to the fire for warmth. The raincoats were of good quality; Luya and Yiliang barely got wet. However, the cold, rainy weather seemed to make every woman reluctant to stray from the flames.

Watching the flickering red and blue flames, I couldn't help but miss my attic, followed by the scene of roasting trout in the cave. I glanced at Chi Chun; she was beautiful, sexy, and healthy, every part of her body ready to receive a man's forceful touch.

Yiliang and Luya took off their raincoats, shivering, and came over, crowding around me, stretching out their small, white, rosy hands to warm themselves by the fire. Behind us, in four rafts filled with river water, over five hundred large, lively fish thrashed and splashed, unaccustomed to the confined space.

They didn't understand their predicament, blindly struggling and thrashing about, unaware that no matter how high they jumped, they would only crash onto the hard floor. Like stubborn, foolish trout searching for their way back to the source, they were fixated on a shallow angle. Once the piranhas were on the rafts, it was time for humans to eat them.

I told the women not to get too close to the rafts, and especially not to touch these caged beasts. In fact, judging from the sharp teeth flashing from their mouths, they already knew the danger of a bite to their delicate skin.

Luya withdrew her warm little hands and pressed them against my back; the soft comfort was deeply soothing. While fishing, the icy rainwater washed directly over my bare upper body, making my entire chest and back feel like thick blocks of ice.

The moment Luya's palm touched my skin, the stark temperature difference made her arm tremble involuntarily. "You're a cold-blooded animal, hehe." I thought, in her world, animals that felt cold to the touch were defined in this way.

The large ship began to rock, the deck like a giant drumhead. The shaking felt in the main hall indicated strong winds and heavy rain outside. Those hot air masses blowing in from the sea must have been exerting all their strength, tilting violently. Raindrops, like tens of thousands of drumsticks, pounded against the ship, causing it to undulate slightly.

Compared to the cave, in such violent weather, hiding inside the ship meant no fear of wild animals. When hungry, there were live fish and dried meat; when tired, there were dry and comfortable sleeping quarters. Now, the main hall allowed Luya and Yiliang to play and chase each other freely, much better than the yard used to defend against wild animals.

The large anchor at the stern was stuck at the bottom of the river and wouldn't be swept away even if the river flooded again. The only remaining issues were retracting the anchor hook and adjusting the mast. The weather was terrible, and there was nothing I could do but retreat to my cabin and think.

Feeling the lightning and thunder outside, I lay wearily on my small bunk in the sleeping cabin, and gradually realized how insignificant I was. It was as if God hadn't even considered me when creating this death playground, and I was like a fish in a raft, constantly struggling with my tail, trying to escape back to my own world.

I had oversimplified everything. This predicament was far more difficult than shooting a dangerous target from a kilometer away. I had this feeling from the moment the anchor got stuck until my second return from underwater.

The night I slaughtered thousands of monkeys was followed by a brief but violent storm, like the wrath of the gods, sweeping across the sky and earth, beyond human control, driving the ship into the great river in the middle of the forest.

In fact, from that moment on, all the guns and unyielding will were like the teeth and stubbornness of an ant, standing on the windowsill, looking through the bright glass at the anthill under the distant tree, tempted but unable to give up, yet forever trapped inside. And God was that little boy, hands supporting his chin, watching the ants with astonishment.

Thinking this, the heavy weariness accumulated over the past few days, like a body sinking into a swamp, unknowingly buried itself in a deep sleep. The storm that night was exceptionally fierce; the large ship, like a lotus growing above the water, couldn't be pulled away no matter how the invisible hands of the wind and rain pulled.

I felt calm; perhaps only in this way could I rest with a clear conscience. Anyway, the ship was tied to the boulders at the bottom of the river, unable to go anywhere; let the capricious nature play its contradictions.

The torrential rain lasted for three days, especially on the second night, the raging torrent of the floodwaters whipping the ship around like a dog's tail begging for a bone, swaying left and right, then leaping up and down, without any order. The women on board couldn't stand properly and had to move slowly and cautiously, clinging to the walls, as if they had just given birth and gotten out of bed.

On the morning of the fourth day, the world outside the cabin quieted down. The sun, unseen for three days, was climbing over the distant edge of the forest. The golden light, though soft, was initially difficult for the eyes to adjust to.

Closing my eyes briefly, I opened them again to find the damp deck covered in withered leaves and broken branches, a desolate scene reminiscent of a flood. Luya, impatient, rushed out from behind me like a canary long confined in a cage. The

wet, broken branches and leaves at my feet, soaked by the rain and not yet exposed to the sun, remained a vibrant green. Several oddly colored, fuzzy insects began to wriggle and feed on the leaves. They must have been starving, only now that the rain had stopped.

The moment I looked through the binoculars, my heart skipped a beat. The riverbank was more than half narrower than before, and the trees on both sides seemed to reach into the clouds. Looking closer, I saw solid rock walls beneath the dense cluster of trees.

I realized then that the ship's anchor chain had broken, or the anchor had come loose. I rushed to the stern, only to see the anchor chain dangling straight down, submerged in the muddy river water. Along both banks, the water lapped against the rocks, making a rushing sound as it flowed downstream.

"Why isn't the boat moving?" I wondered to myself, but immediately a sense of impending danger washed over me: the large ship had run aground in the narrow gorge. "Luya, Yiliang, you two quickly move the anchor bolt! Chichun, stand at the cabin door and relay the message!"

The two girls' faces immediately showed panic. Although they knew the anchor chain was open, they sensed a more terrifying danger from my serious expression.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/15148.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=15148&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 6

Next Page : Humanity Forbidden Island [Complete] - 11

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Humanity Forbidden Island [Full Text] - 9

comment Open a new window to view comments